


The Longest Night

by rainbowanatomy



Series: Steinoru [1]
Category: Runaways (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 12:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17601041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowanatomy/pseuds/rainbowanatomy
Summary: “Are you fucking moronic?” It’s harsh, insulting the scientist’s intelligence after being looked down upon for so long in PRIDE, in life, but it comes out anyway because if Tina Minoru doesn’t push right now, something is going to give and it’s going to be her. She’s been holding herself together since Nico and Chase’s first play date twelve years ago, maybe, probably, years before that, and she’s never had to deal with an advance from Janet. It’s too much, to expect her to hold her composure. Yet she tries, because that’s what’s expected of her. She hates the desperation she feels for those hands on her. “What are you doing here?”





	The Longest Night

**Author's Note:**

> Set after “Hostile Takeover”; the alien in Tina can’t get a hold on her so it goes to one of the other parents. Definite out of character bits but I just love them so much I had to write something after that Tina/Janet scene. Also no Janet/Victor romance happens after this fic in this AU. Because gross.  
> Sorry for the grammar, I tried my hardest but really I just needed more. I may make a collection for this pairing, I'm not sure. Anyway, enjoy!

“ _Fuck_ ,” Tina Minoru swears, grabbing at the back of her head. She’s standing in her kitchen, some place she doesn’t remember being in for a long time, and the cabinet where she keeps the beans and pasta and the likes is hanging open. She blinks, taking in her surroundings, like she’s waking up from a bad dream. She doesn’t remember why she came in here in the first place. It’s too clean in the room; all the “get our kids back at whatever cost” meetings have been keeping her away from a home cooked meal, as bad as she is at cooking. No matter. The silence in the house tells her Robert Minoru is out, sulking or pretending to be busy or whatever he does these days, and, because she would hate to talk to a delivery person right now, that leaves her to feed herself. Fine. So be it. Maybe thrashing around in her kitchen will drown out how mind-numbingly terrified she is over her daughter.  
She grabs for the pasta and slams it onto the counter, and roots around in the bottom cabinets for where they keep their pots. Their AI, Wizey – which had taken a while to fix, thanks to whatever alien damage Karolina Dean did to it – pings.

  
“Someone is at the gate, Alpha User,” Wizey says in her robotic tone.  
“Fuck,” Tina repeats, “Who is it?” Wizey’s wall screen blinks over to their camera facing the gate entrance. _“Janet Stein?_ ”  
“Shall I open the gate, Alpha User?”  
What on earth would she be doing here? Her husband’s _mistress_? At her _house_? _Now_?  
“Let her in,” Tina finds herself saying. Seconds later, Janet Stein is ringing her doorbell, though Tina is already opening the door. “Janet.”  
“Tina,” Janet returns, though her cautious face does not match the breathless way the scientist says her name. Her stomach does somersaults.  
“What are you doing here?” She ignores how Janet’s step closer spikes her heart rate.  
“Can I come in?” Janet’s careful face changes, a gentle smile spreading over her face. Tina finds herself stepping aside, welcoming the scientist into her home. “Shoes on or off?”

She furrows her eyebrows at the question. “Uh… On is fine.” Janet smiles again and crosses the threshold into the living room. “Robert isn’t home, Janet.” There’s too much venom in the words. Picking a fight is the last thing her brain can handle. Janet just gives a soft shake of her head.  
“I didn’t want to see him.”  
“I, uh… okay…” She shuts the door behind her when Wizey’s ‘ping’ reminds her it’s still open. Now it’s just the two of them, standing in her living room, silently sizing each other up. This particular pair hasn’t been alone together in a long, _long_ time.

  
“Am I interrupting something?”  
“I was just starting dinner…”  
“You cook?” Janet raises an eyebrow, but her smile doesn’t fade. Tina eyes her back, measuring out the venom behind the words; there’s none.  
“No,” she finds herself admitting.  
“Lucky for you, I do. Lead the way.”  
This day just keeps getting more and more confusing. Tina does in fact lead the way to the sad empty pot on the counter next to the sad box of pasta.  
“I don’t… really have much. We’ve been so occupied, and… I never used to do the cooking…”  
“I’m sure I can figure something out,” Janet says, hand on the fridge door, “If… if you want.”  
She nods in response, hating how easily her eyes are drawn to Janet’s body in her suit, especially as Janet leans in to examine the pathetic content in her fridge. When the woman straightens up with some wilting vegetables and a half a lemon, that smile turns to a smirk. She flushes, looking at literally anything else in the kitchen than Janet’s ‘did I just catch you staring?’ face. Janet sets her findings on the counter next to the pasta.  
“Can I, uh, get you something to drink?” she asks, moving over to the wine fridge and pulling out a bottle of white.  
“Wine sounds great,” Janet agrees.

  
“Excuse me, the opener is in-“ Tina reaches for the drawer next to Janet, who’s hand is reaching at the same time. “In this… drawer…” Janet’s hand on hers stirs something in her she hasn’t let herself feel since her college days, buried under responsibility. This isn’t a mistake. They’re both smart enough to understand that. What Tina can’t figure out is what that means. She doesn’t even realize she forgot what she was doing until Janet holds up the wine opener in her free hand. “Thanks…” Janet moves away, lifting Tina’s hand off the drawer with the one on hers, and pressing the opener into her palm with the other with a soft, “Of course.” Tina has never opened a bottle so fast, setting the glasses on the counter with shaking hands.  
She pours Janet’s first, then fills her more than halfway; in her peripheral vision, she sees Janet hold her glass out to cheers, and when she turns, Janet chuckles,  
“Long day?”

  
“You said it.” They clink glasses.  
“It would be a lot shorter if you and Victor would stop planning weapons that could seriously hurt our kids.” Again, there’s no venom. Just a ‘matter of fact’ shrug.  
“What?” This is news to her. “Why would I do that?”  
“That’s what I’ve been asking myself.”  
“Is that why you’re here?”  
“No.” Janet takes a small sip, and she in turn takes a huge gulp, swallowing half of the glass.  
“Oh,” is all she can say when she puts her drink down.  
“Where do you keep your knives?” Knives are the last things that she trusts Janet with, but her stomach betrays her, as soft as the growl is, and she points to the knife drawer. Janet nods, puts her drinks down, and turns her back to Tina, getting to work. Tina drowns the rest of her wine and refills her glass. It’s quiet for a while, besides the sound of drawers opening and the water starting to boil and her wine sipping. She’s still trying to piece together her afternoon, her whole life, to figure out why Janet would show up here, unannounced, not looking for Robert but looking for her. And that’s when Janet asks for help chopping the vegetables.

  
Tina’s working on a proper buzz, but she agrees anyway, realizing her hands are shaking when she puts her glass down. She takes the shuffling two steps to the counter Janet is working on. Janet is holding the knife an inch off the counter, blade facing her, the handle an offering for Tina. Tina wraps her hand around it as far away from Janet’s fingers as possible, not daring to feel their warmth, and assess the situation.

  
“You know,” she starts, hating herself for the slight slur, “I could kill you if I wanted to.” Her eyes flick down to the knife, flick back up to meet Janet’s. _FUCK, why did I just say that?_ Janet blinks, once, twice, smile still there. Have those eyes always been that blue?  
“I know,” the scientist finally says, unafraid. So Tina firms her grip on the knife and takes it out of Janet’s hand, turns towards the vegetables, and tries to stop her vision from swimming – whether from the alcohol or Janet’s eyes, she can’t tell. More quiet again, except for the sound of Janet sipping, water boiling, and the uneven 'thunk' of the knife hitting the cutting board. Her hands tremble. “You’re going to cut yourself doing that,” Janet’s voice sounds.

  
Except it’s right in her ear. The scientist’s hands are on top of hers, wrapping lithe fingers around hers and the knife handle, cupping the onion with her. “Here.” Janet adjusts the knife’s angle, pulls it back a little so the sharpest part is over the food, and pushes, cutting an even slice of the yellowing onion. She lifts the knife, nudges the onion forward, and slices again. And again and again and again, until there’s none left to cut; Janet’s hands still on hers, warm and strong.

Tina realizes she’s been holding her breath, growing dizzy, and inhales sharply. Janet’s damn perfume hits her harder than the wine. Then Janet’s hands are on her hips, pressing their bodies together. “See?” the scientist whispers, breath hot against her ear, “It’s not so bad when you know how to do it properly.” She places the knife down on the board, clutches her hands into fists, leans back into the woman. Just ever so slightly. “I know I pushed you away earlier,” Janet murmurs, one hand trailing up her side, tucking her hair behind her ear, “I never expected that from you. It caught me off guard. I’m sorry.”

  
_What did she just say? What the fuck is this woman_ doing _?_

  
“Wizey,” Tina tries to say confidently. It falls flat. “Wizey,” she tries again, louder this time. The AI’s kitchen screen lights up. “Cameras off.” The click is almost inaudible, but as soon as it reaches her ears, she musters up the strength to spin out of Janet’s arms. “What the fuck are you doing?” she pants, her face going embarrassingly hot. Janet cocks her head.  
“What do you mean?”

  
“Are you fucking moronic?” It’s harsh, insulting the scientist’s intelligence after being looked down upon for so long in PRIDE, in life, but it comes out anyway because if Tina Minoru doesn’t push right now, something is going to give and it’s going to be her. She’s been holding herself together since Nico and Chase’s first play date twelve years ago, maybe, probably, years before that, and she’s never had to deal with an advance from Janet. It’s too much, to expect her to hold her composure. Yet she tries, because that’s what’s expected of her. She hates the desperation she feels for those hands on her. “What are you _doing_ here?”

  
“The same goddamn thing you were doing earlier in Victor’s lab,” Janet spits, “You seemed pretty set on feeling me up.”

  
“What?” For once in her life, she’s absolutely flabbergasted. “I did what?” Janet does that stupid blinking thing again, and she wants to tell her to stop, because it means, even for a fraction of the second, the world can’t see those beautiful eyes, that she can’t see those beautiful eyes. Janet knows her, as much as she hates that, as much as she loves that, and Janet knows that Tina Minoru is never confused. Never forgets. Never gives in.

  
“You don’t… remember?” Janet breathes. Tina regrets it immediately, admitting this lapse, because now those damned blue eyes are _hurt_. It’s too late now. She shakes her head in confirmation. “I, um. I should go…” The water is boiling now, and Tina reaches over, switches the stove off, hiding her blush. Janet turns, starts to leave, and she doesn’t let her. Their hands fit so well together. She holds on too tight, spins her around, tugs her gently back to her, looks into those damned beautiful blue eyes.

  
“Tell me,” she breathes, “Tell me what I did.”

  
So Janet does. Maybe it’s the desperation in her voice, or the way she knows she’s looking at Janet, whatever it is, it works. The scientist tells her about the weapon, the demonstration, the way her hands drifted over hands, arms, waist, hair. The way she smirked, and smiled. The way it felt, body pressed against body. The way she announced, ‘You’re not like metal at all, are you?’ The way she whispered, ‘No wonder Victor and Robert couldn’t resist.’ The moment she slapped her ass. That makes Tina laugh so hard her stomach hurts, and the wine threatens to resurface. Janet tells her about how she pushed her off, walked away with her heart racing.

  
“You really don’t remember?” Janet asks when done recounting the encounter. Tina shakes her head again.  
“I don’t,” she admits, “I’m sorry. I… I’ve been forgetting things recently.”  
“I really should go.” Janet turns. Tina lets go of her hand, and finds herself saying,  
“But… I’d like to remember.” Janet freezes, back towards her.

  
_Get a fucking hold of yourself, Minoru,_ she thinks. But it’s too late. She gives in as she stands behind Janet, guides her hands to the counter where they can rest easy, so she can trail her own hands over Janet’s fingers, wrists, arms. Twenty years since they’ve met, twelve (maybe, probably, more) since she’s fallen, and she’s finally, finally, touching her.

  
“Tina,” Janet whispers.  
“What did I say?” she responds, letting her hands wander up Janet’s forearms, her right hand going farther, brushing over Janet’s waist, “’Widen your stance. Baby’s got some kickback’.”  
She feels Janet suck in a breath, exhales shakily. “You,” the scientist whispers, “You smacked my ass when you said that.” The words sing through her in a way she’s never known. They are a confession. They are a confirmation. She laughs, quietly, relieved.

  
“Ok,” she returns, “Let me try again.” She squashes down any hesitation and gives Janet’s ass a harder-than-intended slap. “Widen your stance,” she breathes.  
“Baby’s got some kickback,” Janet finishes, just as breathless. Her lip twitches, a giggle, _a giggle_ , catches in her throat. It feels too inappropriate to laugh now, to break this beautiful bubble with something so loud. So, instead, she grips Janet’s waist harder, leans up on her tiptoes, uses her other hand to brush the hair away from Janet’s neck, and presses a kiss there. Her brain is screaming, the room dips, spins, but she kisses harder, lining the side of the scientist’s neck with kisses, braves a flash of her teeth, something uncontrolled unraveling in her stomach.

  
“Tina,” Janet whispers again.

“Yes?” Tina asks, pausing for a moment. Fuck. She’s left more than just her red lipstick there. Janet turns in her arms, and leans down. Her legs damn near buckle underneath her when she realizes that Janet Stein is finally kissing her. Twelve, maybe, probably, twenty years – _finally_. Janet spins Tina around, pins her against the counter, grips her waist, presses their hips together. As cliché as it is, it feels like hours. She pulls back first, panting heavily. It’s so unfair, so twisted, being undone by her husband’s former mistress, but she can barely catch her breath, standing there, between a granite countertop and Janet Stein’s warm, welcoming body. Janet’s leaning in again, pressing hurried, hungry kisses to her neck, collarbones, the collar of her dress, hands wandering over her thighs, ass, lower back, and Tina just wraps her arms around Janet’s shoulders, unsure as to when she started holding her breath again. When their mouths meet again, she whimpers. How long has it been since anyone’s touched her? Kissed her? _Wanted_ her?

  
She’s lifted onto the counter with a flourish, and Janet’s hands are starting to fidget with the hem of her dress, sliding it up her legs until her skin touches the cool surface, and there’s almost nothing left to stand between the scientist and her underwear. “Wait,” she gasps, and it’s one of the toughest things she’s ever had to say outside of motherhood. Janet pulls back, eyes soft, questioning.  
“Is this ok?” the other woman breathes, and the care in the words knocks the wind out of her all over again.  
“Not… here. Let’s go somewhere else.” Because Robert would know Janet’s perfume anywhere, she’s sure of it. And she wants this to be hers, entirely her own, after resisting for far too long and because everything else is out of her control. Janet’s eyebrows furrow, eyes flashing with solemn understanding, and she nods, helps her off the kitchen counter.

  
“What should we go with the…?” she starts, nodding wordlessly at the sliced union, wilted veggies, lemon, and opened box of pasta.  
“Toss it,” Tina states, heading towards her bedroom, “I’ll be right back.”  
She hurries down the hall, and into the master bedroom, closing the door behind her without a sound. “Wizey,” she whispers, “Cameras on.” The screen lights up. “Kitchen.” Janet’s pouring the hot water down the sink, leaves it in the drying rack, and then turns towards the cutting board. Tina sucks in a couple of deep breaths before heading to her closet for heels. _I guess I’m finally doing this_ , she thinks, ears ringing.

  
She slips into her second highest heels, needing to feel taller, though she thinks being engulfed by the taller woman is a much better way to live. She stands in front of her mirror, pins up her hair, smooths down her dress, redoes her lipstick, slipping the color into her purse before leaving the room, heels clicking back into the kitchen.  
Janet is leaning against the counter. “I didn’t know what to do with the pot, but I put the glasses, wine, and knife back,” the scientist says.

  
Tina’s struck by how unthinkable this scene is: Janet, in _her kitchen_ , lipstick marks and a bruise on her neck, clothes ruffled, smiling at her expectantly. No, she should just turn around and go back to sleep and wait to wake up from whatever dream this is. But she and Janet have opened the floodgates; instead, she mindlessly replaces the pot and cutting board to their proper places, holds out her hand, and says, “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” And something clearly gave in Janet, too, because the scientist puts her hand in Tina’s with little hesitation, and lets the woman lead them to the driveway. “You’re driving.”

  
The car is the most awkward part. When they are sitting in the quiet hum of the car, Janet listening to the location Tina keyed into the car’s GPS, Tina listening to Janet breathing.  
“We’re doing this,” Tina says, out loud this time, more to herself than to her company.  
“We’re really doing this,” Janet confirms, voice choked with the same wonder. “Where are we going?”  
“A place where they, well, they know _of_ Robert, but he doesn’t work for them, doesn’t know of the place. They only acknowledge me,” she answers, as her stomach lets out a low rumble again, “And have really great food.”  
“Good. I didn’t think those vegetables were going to do good on our bodies.”

  
Silence again. GPS instructions. Thirty minutes out from their destination. Instead of talking, Janet turns on the radio. Country comes on. Tina laughs before she can stop herself.  
“You can change it, if you want,” Janet chuckles. She turns the volume up. “What are you doing?”  
“You just assume I don’t like this song?” Tina asks, reaching over and curling a strand of blonde hair around her finger. “There’s a lot about me you _don’t_ know. For example, this Letters to Cleo song was one of my favorite songs in college.”  
“I was more of a Bruce Springsteen fan myself.”  
Tina grins. “How, what do they say? Basic.”  
“Watch it.”

  
_I could watch you all night long_ , she thinks, threading her whole hand in that soft hair.  
“Sorry,” she whispers, “Springsteen is cool, too.” She’s so stupidly caught in this woman. Feels the uncontrollable animal howling inside her. It’s been far too long since anyone’s touched her. Far longer since she’s wanted someone to. Well, besides the person sitting next to her. “Tell me something.”  
“Like what?”  
“Something you’ve never done before.”  
“What are we? Teenagers?”  
She turns the volume down. “Humor me?”  
Janet sighs. “You’re going to have to take your hand out of my hair. I can’t think like this.” So she does, reluctantly, and watches Janet watching the road, waiting. “Well… I’ve never… done this before.”  
“Sneak away with a Minoru?” Janet winces. Too much. Too much outside coming in. “Sorry. Again. I didn’t mean-“  
“It’s ok. You’re right by it…” Silence, and then, “I mean _this_. Anything. With a woman.”  
“Oh.” Tina turns her wedding band around her finger. Takes it off, tucks it in the glove compartment. For some reason, this thought never crossed her mind. Janet seemed so sure of where to put her hands on her body just fifteen minutes ago. “Really?”  
“We used to play truth or dare and spin the bottle. At least, my friends did. I sat out. I was too afraid to…” Blue eyes flick sideways to her for a second. “Have you?”  
“In college.”  
“That’s all I get?”  
“I wasn’t experimenting... I was pretty sure. Still, family responsibilities came first.”  
“Oh.”  
“But I could never regret having my kids.” It’s quiet for the last twenty minutes, both lost in their own thoughts, listening to country on the wrong volume. It’s the longest thing she’s ever experienced.

  
When Janet finally pulls up to the hotel, they both take deep breaths.  
“If you don’t want to,” Tina starts, softly, “We can turn around now.” Janet is quiet for a while, until there’s a knock on the window. “Valet service.” Janet nods, unbuckles her seatbelt, and opens the door. Tina feels a relief she’s never known. She jumps when her own door opens; Janet stands there, offering her the crook of her arm, and Tina takes it, standing on uneasy legs.  
“Do _you_ want to turn around?” Janet asks as they approach the sliding doors.  
“No.” And she means it with every fiber of her being. The front desk attendant smiles at the pair,

  
“Good evening, Ms. Minoru. Shall I send up your usual order?” The pair pause at the desk as the attendant slides a key across the counter. Tina nods once, accepts the key. The attendant’s eyes flick to Janet. “I’ll make sure there’s two of everything.” She lets a small smile cross her lips as thanks, and this time, though tucked under Janet’s arm, she takes charge again, leading them to the elevators, elevator 3 specifically, where she inserts the key into the keyhole on the panel. The doors open and they step inside. There’s two buttons, ‘15’ and ‘16’, and she presses ‘15’.

  
“What, no penthouse?” Janet jokes to break the quiet. She looks at her and smirks.  
“That’s where my pool is. Do you want to go skinny dipping instead?” Janet’s lips part, and she takes the moment to kiss her, pressing the tall woman, who, thanks to her own heels, is now only three inches or so taller, against the elevator wall. She threads her fingers into Janet’s hair, and she feels the blonde reach into her own hair, feeling around until she frees a bobby pin and raven hair spills over her shoulders. “Have I ever told you,” Janet breathes around the kiss, “How beautiful I think your hair is?”

  
The elevator rumbles to a halt. She steps back, satisfied by the wide-eyed look on Janet’s face, the usually perfect hair starting to come undone, and her own lipstick mixing with Janet’s pink. “Welcome to my private abode,” she says, as living room lights come on with a sweep of her hand. They step into the suite together.

  
“It’s beautiful,” Janet comments, which makes Tina want to say the stupidly cliché line, ‘Not as beautiful as you’, and is dangerously close to losing all control when the dumbwaiter pings, announcing their food. “That was fast.”  
“They owe me fast service. I did all the tech myself here. Before Wizard. I’ve updated over the years as I’ve learned.” She crosses to their waiting food.  
“You’re right,” Janet chuckles, “There’s a lot I don’t know about you.”

  
They eat in the adjacent dining room, at a little, beautiful, round wood table, and don’t mention the fact that there’s no wine. Tina decides she can’t risk being out of control anymore than she already feels… and Janet is intoxicating enough for her. When there is nothing left on their plates, and they’ve run out of awkward small talk, they are finally left to their situation. Janet clears her throat, standing.

  
“You know,” the scientist starts, moving so she stands behind Tina, soft hands pulling aside black hair, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you nervous like this before.” Lips touch her neck, softly at first, not unlike she had done barely an hour ago, and then harder, pulling, sucking, as hands wander back to the hem of her dress, sliding it up. She stands after a minute, turns, meets Janet’s mouth with equal fire, equal want, equal _need_. She’s well aware how desperate she is to feel, to be felt, when she finds her hands on the front of Janet’s blouse, pulling hard, not bothering with the buttons that pop and spin into the same oblivion the pair is in.

  
“Fuck,” she breathes, pulling back, staring at the ruined shirt.  
“Don’t worry about it,” Janet returns, just as breathless, and brings her in for another kiss. Tina decides to do just that, not worry about it, and pulls the blouse fully open, the last few buttons falling, flying, just like she is. It’s too fast, and too slow, and she’s too eager as she pushes the blazer and blouse off Janet’s shoulders, where they crumple into a pile at their feet. She feels her partner let out a laugh, pulling back, both suddenly very aware, again, of the absurdity of it all. Janet Stein, in her secret place, standing in front of her in her bra, which is white and lacy, and also very much in the way of where she wants to kiss.

  
“Let me take you to the bedroom?” she asks softly, pressing her forehead against the scientist’s cheek.  
“Please,” Janet answers. They’re so young again as Tina nearly sprints to her bedroom, Janet right behind her, the only thing aging them the heels that they run in. They stumble in seconds later, laughing as she pushes Janet backwards onto the bed, the woman tugging her down on top, kissing her before they can catch their breath. One of her heels slips off her foot, hits the floor; it’s her first article of clothing to come off. She kicks off the other one, comes up from the kiss, presses Janet down by her shoulders, smiles. The returned smile is as dazzling as a kiss.

  
“Are you ok?” she breathes, holding so tight she’s sure she’s leaving nail marks.  
“Yes,” the damned beautiful blue eyed woman answers, chest heaving.  
“Tell me if you’re not?”  
“I don’t see that being a problem.” When Tina doesn’t kiss her yet, Janet adds, “But of course.” Tina slips off the bed, kneels by the edge, unbuckles the scientist’s skirt, take off her heels.

  
“I know I don’t remember what I said or did earlier,” she murmurs as she starts to tug that blue skirt off, “But I plan on making many, many more memories tonight.” Janet lays back, lifts her hips, lets Tina strip her down to her underwear, and then that’s gone, too leaving her in just her bra. Tina presses kisses on Janet’s shins, knees, thighs, working her way up long, lithe legs that are way sexier than she ever imagined. The room is dipping again, spinning as she kisses over hipbones, stomach, sternum, faster when Janet sighs and, when she reaches her neck, whimpers. She hooks her thumbs into Janet’s bra straps, slips those off, kisses the woman with too much teeth, sits both of them up to unhook the remaining offender; when it’s unhooked, Janet reaches between them, tosses it aside, and meets Tina’s frenzied kiss. “Get back against the pillows,” Tina murmurs.

  
The mattress shifts with obedience. Her hair’s in her eyes and she pushes it back with an exasperated huff. “Oh,” is all she can say when she sees her lover, _her_ mistress now, against the headboard, the moonlight coming in through the large windows lighting up those damned beautiful blue eyes, brushing over smooth skin. _“Oh.”_  
“What?” Janet whispers, shifting, almost folding in on herself.  
“Don’t cover yourself,” she commands, still holding her hair back, sitting back on her heels. She drinks it all in. Twenty years can make a person very greedy.  
“Tina-“  
“Shh…” She moves across the mattress as gracefully as she can, reaches forward, in some trance, and presses a shaking fingertip to Janet’s collarbone. She feels herself doing that stupid blinking thing now as she runs it down the expanse of her lover. “No wonder Victor and Robert couldn’t resist.”

  
“Tina!” Janet chuckles. Tina leans in to kiss Janet’s neck, jaw, her hand now on the scientist’s thighs, which part in response, allow her to move even closer.  
“I love it when you say my name,” she whispers into Janet’s ear. The scientist’s hands are on her back, running up her spine to find the zipper of her dress.  
“Tina,” Janet coos, unzipping the dress, dragging fingers across her skin. She almost breaks at that touch, especially when it sweeps back up to her own bra. Two can play.

  
“Again,” she commands, own hand finding exactly the right spot to make Janet jump, whimper, “I said… again.”  
“Tina…”

  
As a kid, Tina Minoru always loved shapes, none more so than the circle. Needless to say, she’s very good at making circles. And somewhere between the shapes, the sounds, the tastes, Tina Minoru forgets where she ends and Janet Stein begins.

  
Afterwards, Janet holds her, curls her against the body she had spent many hours making love to. Soft kisses are being peppered across her face, shoulders, lips. Her heart is skipping some strange beat; she wouldn’t be surprised if it was ‘I love you’ in Morse code. She’s so tired she almost says the words out loud. If she were able to read minds, she would learn that they’re both asking the same question way in the back of their minds: Is this how Robert felt being with you? But because she can’t read minds, she asks,

  
“How are you, Janet?” She’s rewarded with more kisses.  
“I’m wonderful… You’re wonderful… How are you?”  
“I’m wonderful.”

  
If she could read minds, she would know they were thinking the same thing, right on the tip of their tongues: This is the first time I’ve felt safe in a long time.  
But she can’t read minds, so she just leans up and kisses Janet, with a gentleness she didn’t even know she could possess for a partner, and whispers, “Thank you.”  
“No,” Janet returns, “Thank _you._ ”

  
They sleep for a while; young and foolish as this whole thing had been, they aren’t teenagers anymore, they need their sleep. Tina replays the sex in her dreams. Janet’s legs around her hips. Her hands on that soft skin. Janet’s lips on her inner thighs. The brilliant fireworks she saw when Janet found what she was looking for. And the damned beautiful chorus of her name when she found what _she_ was looking for.

  
The sunlight wakes them up. When she blinks open her eyes, she sees Janet’s face, so peaceful as the scientist sleeps. Her heart skips a beat. She closes the gap between their mouths, kisses the woman awake. Fuck morning breath. After a couple of seconds, the pressure of the kiss is returned, and she’s being rolled onto her back.

  
“Good morning,” Janet says when they break apart.  
“You’re even more beautiful in the light,” she breathes, and is rewarded by a flower of blush across her lover’s cheeks. “Do you want breakfast?”  
“Tina, that sounds lovely, but… We should go…” Janet glances over and she follows her gaze to the TV box, reading the time. “It’s getting late.”  
“Oh. Right. The PRIDE meeting.”  
“The PRIDE meeting.”  
“You’re going to have to get off me, then. It’s hard to be rational with that blush and your breasts in my face.” Janet gets even redder and slips to the floor, still leaning over Tina with a smirk. “It’s hard to be rational with you standing naked in front of me at all.”  
“I’m going to shower.”  
She reaches out and swats Janet’s ass. “Without me?”  
“Watch it, you.” The damned beautiful woman goes into the bathroom and shuts the door behind her. Tina stands up, crosses to the full-length mirror on one closet door. Janet is everywhere on her; there’s love bites on her shoulders, bruises on her chest and inner thighs, lipstick all over her face, her hair standing every which way, and yes, even a fucking tiny hickey at the base of her neck. _Only fair_ , she thinks, _since I did the same damage to her_.

  
She gets back into the bed, sinks into the mattress, inhales their mingled smell. Oh, and Janet’s perfume is everywhere, too, almost steeped into her skin.  
“You need different clothes,” Tina announces when Janet emerges from the bathroom, one towel around her torso, the other wrapping around her air. She gets up and crosses to the other closet door. “Come here.” Janet does, and Tina pulls her closer, kissing her shoulder and cheek. “This place sees a lot of high end business people, so they keep it well stocked with clothes. Swipe through this app, pick whatever outfit you want.”  
“You really know how to treat a woman,” Janet chuckles.  
“I owe you after wrecking your blouse.” Tina turns the pair to face each other, kisses the scientist so hard their teeth knock, pulls the towel right off.  
“Tina.”  
“Right. Shower. Reality…” She takes a step back, averts her gaze from the sorrow creeping across her lover’s, _her_ mistress’s, face, and goes to shower.

  
The elevator ride is quiet.

Tina takes the opportunity of the car ride to grip Janet’s thigh, sliding up the hem of the new tight black skirt the scientist chose. It’s deliciously dangerous, bringing the damned beautiful woman to climax en route to their real lives, but she needs to hear her name come from that mouth again. Who cares if the car jerks every so often? She’s already addicted.

  
Janet drops Tina off one block away from the Minoru house first. It’s laughably juvenile. They laugh so hard they ache. They’re both wearing shirts with turtlenecks. “Do you think Catherine is going to be mad we’re copying her style?” Janet snorts. Tina laughs even harder, leans across the seat, kisses the woman.  
“She’ll be mad because you wear it so much better,” she chuckles. They catch their breath after a few more minutes. “So.”  
“So.”  
“I’ll… see you in twenty minutes.”  
“Mmhm… I suppose so.”

  
“You know this shouldn’t happen again.” She says it in a rush, looking out her window. Because one of them _should_ say it. Janet sucks in a rough breath, lets it go in almost a hiss. The scientist is hurt; she can hear her shift in her seat.

  
“I know,” Janet whispers. Tina opens the glove compartment, takes out her wedding ring, holds it up. They both study it. She tucks it into her purse, gets a hand on the handle.

  
“I’ll see you this weekend,” she finally says, “We can go somewhere fun.”  
“You-“ the scientist starts, so she turns to look at her, “You are unbelievable.” Janet starts laughing again; this is how she leaves that damned beautiful woman for the moment:  
Happy, relieved, a little bit in love.

  
Tina Minoru can’t read minds, but if she could, she would know that Janet Stein is a lot in love, and has been for quite some time – if one qualifies twelve, maybe, probably, twenty, years as ‘quite some time’.

**Author's Note:**

> So as you can see, I now have a soft spot for the pairing, as does Brittany Ishibashi (and probably Ever Carradine). I have a ton more saved on my laptop, roughly based off this story, so let me know if you'd like to see more! (I'll probably post (and write) more without anyone asking whoops). May even write e x p l i c i t scenes when i get back into that headspace.


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